


I need a hit/Baby, give me it

by Neyiea



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Daddy Kink, M/M, Pampering, Rough Sex, Spanking, Which there is not a whole lot of but I know that's a big NO THANKS for people so...
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-30
Updated: 2020-08-30
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:15:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26194012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neyiea/pseuds/Neyiea
Summary: Follow up toA guy like you should wear a warning/It's dangerous/I'm fallingx-x-x“You’ve got a knot practically the size of my fist in your back, Brucie. When’s the last time you relaxed?”Bruce is very carefully silent. Jerome’s arms tighten around him.“Was it the last time that I forced you to relax?”“… Maybe.”
Relationships: Jerome Valeska/Bruce Wayne
Comments: 5
Kudos: 134





	I need a hit/Baby, give me it

**Author's Note:**

> Here we are. If the Wayleska daddy kink fic is going to be three parts then Valeyne needs an extra one of these; for the sake of fairness, so says I. 
> 
> Title is, once again, from Toxic by Britney Spears.

“You look tired.”

Bruce glances up to find Jerome casually strolling in through one of the open office windows, and he is both surprised and yet not at all surprised. Jerome, even when he was in the midst of causing chaos, could never stay away from him for long. Bruce finds that he loves that level of loyalty directed at him. 

“It’s been a long few days,” he says as Jerome circles around the desk to stand behind him, although Jerome ought to be well enough aware of that by now, considering that he was likely an integral part of the Arkham breakout that happened three days ago. Jerome’s hands come down on his neck and Bruce startles at first, jolting under the unexpected contact as if he actually believes that Jerome would turn on him after everything, and he remains somewhat tense even as Jerome lovingly shushes him while his hands glide up into Bruce’s hair before firmly tracing back down his neck and spreading out across his shoulders. 

“Oh.” Bruce finds himself starting to relax at the touch. “That’s actually kind of nice.”

“Bruce, are you seriously going to tell me that someone with as much money as you has never gotten a massage?”

“I don’t like being touched by strangers, or being vulnerable around strangers, or just strangers, period. You know meeting new people very rarely works out as being something good for me. Plus—Ow, ow.” Bruce lurches away from Jerome’s fingers. “No more. Not good. Stop.”

Jerome hands immediately fall away from his back, but he leans down and his chin hooks over Bruce’s shoulder as his arms wrap around him, keeping Bruce’s arms locked at his sides. 

“You’ve got a knot practically the size of my fist in your back, Brucie. When’s the last time you relaxed?”

Bruce is very carefully silent. Jerome’s arms tighten around him. 

“Was it the last time that I forced you to relax?”

“… Maybe.”

“Alright.” Jerome squeezes him once, then his arms begin to loosen their hold. “No other plans for today. Everything is hereby cancelled.”

“I was going to work on something tonight.”

“Same here, but I’ll put those plans on hold just for you, darlin’.” He presses a lingering kiss to the crown of Bruce’s head. “Because I know you, and you’re going to run yourself ragged. If you won’t take care of yourself, I’ll just have to do it instead.” 

Bruce doesn’t even bother protesting. They are both far too aware of how much Bruce enjoys Jerome taking care of him for either of them to be fooled into thinking that he was being honest. He doesn’t, however, hold back the question, “Out of curiosity, do your aforementioned plans involve ‘kidnapping’ me?”

“If I told you it wouldn’t be a surprise.”

Bruce rolls his eyes, because that’s definitely a ‘yes’.

“Anyways, I’m not taking no for an answer, Bruce.” Jerome presses a kiss to one side of his neck, then the other, his hands coming to settle firmly on Bruce’s shoulders. “And you know I’ll make it happen one way or another, so it’ll be easier for you if you just go along with it. Or else.”

Bruce happily gives in. 

x-x-x

“I still can’t believe how hot you like your baths,” Jerome says, taking Bruce’s hand as he steps into the tub, offering stability until Bruce is standing calf-deep in steaming water. “Although you do get so prettily pink. Shame that it completely negates me sneaking in on you as you’re showering, though.”

“I don’t take hot showers. Baths are hot, showers are cold.” Bruce continues to hold onto Jerome’s hand as he starts to kneel, only letting go to twist himself around and sit. “There’s no middle ground.”

“I wish I could pretend that you needed cold showers because I turn you on too much for you to think straight, instead of knowing that that’s just who you are, as a person.” Jerome slides something along the floor to act as a makeshift stool, settling at the edge of the tub.

“You love who I am as a person.”

“I sure do; weird quirks and all.”

“Cold showers are not a weird quirk.”

“Maybe not, but your nightly routine sure is peculiar for someone as apparently level-headed as you are, Bruce.”

That’s fair.

Jerome undoes the buttons of his cuffs and rolls up his sleeves, grabbing onto a facecloth and a bottle of body wash. “Now lay back. Relax. Let me take care of everything, sweet baby boy.”

Jerome supports Bruce’s elbow with one hand as he scrubs along Bruce’s arm with the other, carefully getting between each and every finger and gliding the soapy cloth along Bruce’s palm. Bruce sinks a little further into the water despite himself.

“Aha, see? I knew you needed a bit of pampering, Bruce.” He adds more body wash onto the cloth and lathers it up before he reaches over to start on the other arm. “You work too hard, and what does it get you? A sore body, a tired mind, and zero thanks.”

“Maybe I do what I do not because I want to be thanked, but because it’s the right thing.”

Jerome mutters something under his breath but Bruce ignores his grumbling; they both knew that Bruce was both too stubborn to change and too goal-oriented to actually require acknowledgment. 

This, though; this was nice.

Jerome sits on the edge of the tub to wash Bruce’s legs and feet, and he pays particular attention to the area behind Bruce’s knees because even though Bruce has told him a hundred times that he’s not ticklish Jerome is still determined to startle a laugh out of him someday. He puts the cloth aside for a few moments to press his thumbs into the arc of Bruce’s foot and Bruce nearly sinks under the water, hands flailing, at the pressure.

“Too much?” Jerome’s touch gentles to something bearable. “Poor baby, you’ve been running all over for the past three days, huh?” The question must be rhetorical, so Bruce doesn’t answer. Instead he leans back and shuts his eyes and lets Jerome do whatever he sees fit. “You ever going to learn how to take a night or two off?”

“Unlikely,” Bruce manages, and he hears Jerome chuckle as his palm firmly runs up the heel of his foot, along the arch, all the way up to his toes. “Unless you are.”

“If me taking a few days off is enough for you and I to have a nice little staycation I think you’ll find I could be persuaded.” Jerome gently settles Bruce’s foot back into the water and reaches for the other one, and Bruce opens his eyes a crack to try and read his expression. All he sees is contentment and a candid smile, so he lets his eyes fall shut again with a soft sigh.

It’s something to think about. 

Jerome eventually finishes with his legs—and Bruce is kind of surprised that his hands didn’t slip into the water to playfully trail up to the junction of his thighs—and he settles behind Bruce again, dunking the cooled cloth into the water and dragging is across his chest and shoulders.

“Lean forward, the heat’ll have loosened you up a little bit by now.”

Bruce moves, even though he feels like he could fall asleep right where he is. It wouldn’t be so bad to fall asleep in the tub, he figures, because Jerome would definitely fish him out if his head slipped under the water. 

The cloth drags up and down his back, and after a minute or two it’s set aside so that Jerome’s fingers can glide across his wet skin, thumbs digging into muscle and dragging in circles until Bruce’s tension there finally starts to lessen. He feels like he could melt into the water, he’s becoming so slack. 

“There you go, baby,” Jerome croons at him, working his fingers against the knot that had caused Bruce to jerk away from him earlier. “Don’t I have such nice ideas?”

“Occasionally.”

“Aw, you’re gonna hurt my feelings, Brucie.”

“You thought that kidnapping me and telling me that you wanted to pay me back for saving you when the first time I did you watched a circus strongman try to beat the shit out of me afterwards was a good idea.”

“Well it worked out for me in the end, didn’t it?”

“It did.” Bruce leans into his touch. “You were very persistent. Who knew that you wanted to take care of me so badly?”

“What kind of daddy would I be if I didn’t take care of my good boy?”

Bruce feels his face flush for reasons other than the persisting heat of the water that he’s immersed in. 

Okay, maybe this could be a special occasion.

“Jerome,” he starts softly, “call me that again?”

He’s had a rough few days, he needs to hear it.

Jerome's arms sling over his shoulders, and Bruce can feel the fabric of Jerome’s shirt start to dampen from the contact with Bruce’s slick skin.

“You’re such a good boy, Bruce.” He presses a kiss just behind Bruce’s ear. “You try so hard, and you do so well. Maybe it’s unwise of me, all things considered—although crazy is as crazy does and nothing I do actually has to make sense, so what does it matter, in the end—but whenever you ruin mine or someone else’s fun I’m so damn proud of you. I enjoy whenever we tango too much to really get mad.” And Jerome wins just as much as he loses, and Bruce usually has too much fun with Jerome to get angry, too, whenever he’s the one who comes up short. Case and point; the Arkham breakout three days ago. “My quick-witted, strong, crafty boy; always one step ahead of everyone else, even the cops. You could bring this city to its knees, even though I know you won’t.” Jerome kisses the crown of his head. “You’re too tender-hearted for that, although you are becoming something of a terrifying urban legend. My valiant darlin’, always keeping everyone on their toes.”

Bruce leans against him, his hands settling over Jerome’s.

“I am not becoming an urban legend.”

Jerome snorts. “Just you wait Bruce, you’ll hear the whispers sooner or later.” Jerome’s fingers slide against him; gentle movement, not exactly the provocative touches that he was fully capable of, but it does make Bruce’s mind start to spin down a new path. He accepts the soft petting for several long moments, allowing himself to enjoy it, before breaking the comfortable silence with, 

“Now that the water’s starting to cool down I’m surprised that you haven’t stripped to climb into the tub with me, to be honest.”

He can feel Jerome’s laughter just as much as he can hear it. It makes him smile.

“Not that I’m not totally into the idea of climbing in behind you and sitting you down onto my cock and holding you there, so nice and full of me, and playing with you until you’re begging me to let you come—wait a second I lost my train of thought there, picturing it.”

Bruce snorts. 

“You’ve been very sweet to me, daddy,” he says, smiling at the way he can feel Jerome’s fingers twitch against him. “So sweet that I kind of want to let you pull my hair as you fuck me hard enough to make me forget what else I’m supposed to be working on tonight.” 

“You’re in luck, baby boy,” Jerome croons at him. “I always want to fuck you until you’ve forgotten about everything except for me. But remember, darlin’, no hiding your pretty face from me.”

“One time,” Bruce murmurs. “That happened one time, and you never let it go.”

“Twice,” Jerome counters. “It happened twice.”

“The first time doesn’t count. You were behind me, you wouldn’t have seen my face anyway.”

“And it wounds me every day to know that I didn’t get to see how red in the face you got the first time my sweet baby boy called me daddy.”

Bruce twists around to face him, raising one dripping hand to cup Jerome’s cheek. Jerome leans into the touch, eyes glimmering like banked coals, ready to ignite at a moment’s notice. Bruce lifts up on his knees to kiss him softly, and Jerome hums against his mouth. When Bruce sinks back down his hand grazes along damp cloth and a bare forearm to hold Jerome’s hand between both of his own.

“Sorry, daddy,” he says, not able to hold the humour out of his voice even as he kisses the back of Jerome’s hand. “I didn’t do it on purpose, you know.”

“Oh, I know.” Jerome looks like he’s about to say more, maybe lightly tease Bruce for his lingering shyness when he became particularly overwhelmed, but the words die in his throat when Bruce teasingly sucks two of Jerome’s fingers into his mouth, pressing up against them with his tongue and humming lowly, letting his eyelashes flutter against his cheeks as he purses his lips around the digits before drawing back, gently scraping at Jerome’s fingertips with his teeth. 

“Next time, if you’re going to be behind me, I’ll let you fuck me in front of a mirror so that you can still see my face, daddy.”

“Bruce, baby, I think we might actually be soulmates.”

Bruce lays his hands on the edge of the bath and kisses Jerome again, and Jerome’s hand slips down his back, fingers dragging insistently across Bruce’s cleft.

“You just keep relaxing, darlin’.” A fingertip begins to push inside, rough with only water to smooth the way, but when Bruce’s breath catches it’s not from discomfort. “Daddy’s got it all figured out. Gonna get you started in here before I carry you to bed, then I’ll open you up with my fingers and slick. Once you’re nice and ready for me I’ll give you the rough fuck that you deserve.”

“Promise?”

Jerome hums in affirmation, then grazes his teeth against Bruce’s throat. He doesn’t bite, not yet, but it’s an obvious preview of what will soon come to pass. Bruce arcs his neck and sighs, his wet fingers sliding into Jerome’s coppery hair. 

“I’ll wear you out, baby,” Jerome murmurs against his skin. “You’re not going to leave the bed until I’m done with you, and I’ve got a lot of plans.”

Bruce shudders, heart tripping in a familiar pattern behind his ribs.

“Kiss me, daddy.”

“For you, baby, anything.”

x-x-x

Jerome’s fingers wind tightly into his hair and tug hard enough to sting. Bruce’s neck arcs back, baring his throat, and Jerome bites a line up and down the entire column of flesh, so firm that there’s no doubt in Bruce’s mind that each one will leave a bruise.

“Tomorrow you’re not going to hide these marks away under a high collar.” Jerome says once his teeth detach from Bruce’s neck. “You’re going to wear a cute little button down. That way everyone you come across is going to see that you’re taken.” His tongue laps against sore skin. Bruce shudders at the feel of it, and at the feel of Jerome keeping his neck on display. “Everyone’s going to see how much you love to be marked by daddy.”

Bruce squirms in Jerome’s lap, feeling his hard cock pressing up against his cleft. He feels hot and shaky and empty; he wants Jerome to fuck him until he can’t remember anything but his daddy.

“I will daddy, I promise.”

“Good. I’d hate to punish you, darlin’, but if I come around tomorrow and I see that you’re trying to hide my marks I’ll have to bend you over my knee and spank you.” His hand in Bruce’s hair tugs again, his other hand splays against the curve of Bruce’s lower back. Bruce bites back a whine and grinds down against him. “First offense; ten smacks. Bet you’d look so cute with my handprints on your ass.”

“Daddy, I promised.”

“I know you did, baby. Daddy just wants to make sure you know what’s in store if you break your promise. It’s only fair.” The hand on Bruce’s back delves lower, two fingers seeking out his slick opening and shallowly hooking into it. “I won’t hold back, and I’ll kiss your pretty pink skin after, but I won’t let you come, not even if you start rutting against my leg. You seem kind of into this idea, Bruce.” His fingers press deeper and Bruce’s body jolts. “You’re not going to misbehave on purpose just so that I’ll spank you, are you?”

“Of course not,” Bruce manages through a gasp. “I want to be good for you.”

Not to mention that Bruce literally only has to ask for it and Jerome will give him anything he wants. Maybe after a bit—or a lot, depending on his mood—of begging, but Bruce could handle that, especially when he knew the end result would be him getting exactly what he requested.

“I know you do.” Jerome leans in to press another kiss to the already red skin of Bruce’s neck. "And you always are." His hand unwinds from Bruce’s hair and trails across his chest, down his ribs, around his waist. “My good boy, my sweet boy, are you ready for me?”

“Yes,” Bruce darts in, pressing a kiss to the corner of Jerome’s mouth. “Fuck me, daddy. Give it to me rough like you promised.”

Jerome grins at him, eyes sparking.

The open palm of his hand comes down hard against Bruce’s ass and Bruce barely muffles an astonished shriek.

“I will, baby,” Jerome vows with a smirk before he lifts up to force Bruce off of his lap. "Daddy's going to take care of you." Bruce tumbles onto his back against the sheets, mind already buzzing, and Jerome grabs onto his hips to slide Bruce up the steep incline of his thighs, Bruce’s spine arcing until only his shoulder blades and the back of his head are pressed into the mattress. One of his hands reaches for Jerome, settling against the outside of his thigh, the other splays out beside him for more support as his ankles lock behind Jerome’s back.

Jerome sinks into him in one steady motion and stays still for several long, agonizing moments. His hands skim up Bruce’s thighs, hips, waist, ribs. One drifts along his side and shifts behind, dragging a line down his spine, the other creeps up the side of Bruce’s neck, thumb pressing against the bite marks that he’d left. Bruce tips his head back, unable to keep himself from rocking down, halting and unsteady, onto Jerome’s cock.

“Daddy,” he starts breathlessly after far too much time has elapsed. “Fuck me.”

Jerome finally starts to move and Bruce’s breath hitches.

His hand on Jerome’s thigh falls away for extra support as Jerome fucks into him, slow but deep. The hand on Bruce’s back creeps up, up, away, settling against the mattress. The hand on his neck glides into his hair, fisting into it and tugging. Jerome looms over him, eyes wild, and if Bruce were capable of it he’d reach up to drag him down into a kiss, but if he moves his arms he won’t be able to support the position he’d been shifted into. He’ll fall, his back will hit the mattress, and Jerome’s cock won’t be in him anymore and that’s the opposite of what he wants so his hands stay where they are, fisting into the sheets on either side of him. 

“Harder, daddy, please.”

“You’re so fucking cute.” Jerome pulls on Bruce’s hair as his restraint starts to melt away. “The sight of you all flushed and desperate underneath me makes me feel like doing something drastic.” His hand untwists from Bruce’s hair and drags back up his body as he straightens, both hands coming to rest firmly on Bruce’s hips. Bruce wonders, hot and fluttering, if it was possible for Jerome to grip him hard enough to leave marks behind there, too. “You want it rough, baby? You want me to pull your hair?”

“Yes, yes, please.”

“You want me to bite you and bruise you and come inside of you?”

Bruce whines, wrapping his legs tighter around him and trying to move in sync. “I do.”

“You want me to spank you?” Jerome thrusts in hard and Bruce jerks, spine curving even more. “Do you want me to cut you? Choke you? Sit you on my cock and keep you there for however long you could stand it before you turned into a pretty mess, begging me to move?”

“I’d let you, I’d let you, please, daddy.”

“So honest.” Jerome shifts, leaning down to lick a trail up Bruce’s neck. “Good boys are rewarded, and you’re the best one there is, baby.” His hands drag up Bruce’s hips, interlocking at the small of his back, and he presses forward, forward, his weight sliding Bruce up the bed until Bruce can finally straighten his spine without having to worry that Jerome’s cock will slip out of him. “Such a perfect, pretty boy; and all mine.”

Bruce reaches up, hands digging into Jerome’s hair and guiding him down into a kiss. The sawing of Jerome’s hips lessens but doesn’t still as Jerome licks into Bruce’s mouth, tongue curling against his teeth. He bites Bruce’s upper lip hard before he retreats, and Bruce lurches underneath him at the feel of it. Jerome shivers, spurred on by Bruce’s reactions, and he settles one big palm against the back of one of Bruce’s thighs and hikes Bruce’s leg up over his shoulder. 

“It would be easier to pull your hair if you were on your hands and knees for me, baby, but—” A hand twists into Bruce’s curls and tugs yet again. “—we’ll leave that for next time when we’ve got that mirror that you promised me.”

Jerome hooks an arm around Bruce’s leg and leans down, stretching him wide open as he fists Bruce’s curls so tight that Bruce can’t even shake his head. He rocks into Bruce, fast and deep, nails digging into the skin of Bruce’s thigh and dragging in a way that makes Bruce ache.

“Daddy,” Bruce cries, one hand settling on Jerome’s elbow. If he could turn his head he would kiss the inside of his wrist. “I love you so much.”

Jerome shudders, eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks.

“I love you too, baby.” He fucks into Bruce hard and he pulls his hair and rakes his nails against Bruce’s skin and Bruce loves it, loves it, loves it. “That’s why I’ll give you everything.” His nails drag down, down, down. His hand falls away.

He slaps the back of Bruce’s upper thigh hard enough to sting. 

Bruce gasps; body clenching, toes curling, winding tight.

“Daddy, daddy, please, daddy.”

Jerome’s open palm strikes against him again and Bruce comes hard, grinding onto Jerome’s cock and whining, sentimental and nonsensical, as Jerome turns and digs his teeth into the skin behind Bruce’s knee, biting until Bruce bleeds.

“Daddy,” Bruce warbles, teary eyed. “Thank you, daddy.”

Jerome smears blood against Bruce’s mouth with kisses as he comes.

x-x-x

Bruce awakens in the dark to the feeling of fingers softly petting through his hair.

“I have to say,” he begins sleepily, nuzzling closer to the warm body in front of him, “the amount of self-restraint that you must be using every time that you’re especially gentle when we have sex does make me appreciate those moments even more.”

Jerome huffs out a laugh.

“Giving it to you rough is like you calling me daddy; it’s for special occasions, and if I indulge you too much it would lose its appeal.”

Bruce groans at his own words being parroted back at him. Jerome laughs again.

“Besides, I could never stop making love to you all tender and sweet. You unravel so nicely for me when I dote on you.” Jerome smacks a kiss against his cheek, playful. “Now go back to sleep, I’m not letting you leave this bed until the sun is up. You’ve been working hard, Bruce, get some rest. Nothing’s going to happen tonight that you need to intervene in.” 

“… Was something supposed to happen tonight?” Had Jerome made a few pointed phone calls while Bruce was dead to the world in order to ensure diabolical schemes were either put on hold or destroyed before Bruce even had a chance to slip into his ‘rock climbing gear’?

“Goodnight, Bruce.”

Bruce rolls his eyes, more fond than anything, before he tucks his face into Jerome’s neck, allowing himself to go slack. 

“Goodnight, Jerome.”


End file.
